far from you
by mew-tsubaki
Summary: M&MWP, oneshot. With the Dark Lord in power, everyone was getting assignments. Thorfinn simply wished Alecto's weren't set in stone.


**far from you**

A HariPo oneshot

by mew-tsubaki

Note: The _Harry Potter_ characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. This pairing is a **Mew and Mor's Weird Pairing**, which you may find in the **M&MWP forum** (see my profile for details). Check out and join the forum FUN! Read, review, and enjoy!

\- ^-^3

The worst part is Dolohov's sniggering.

"You've still got a big lump beneath that thinning mass you call hair," he remarks to Thorfinn. He gestures with his open palm circling the back of his head, except Dolohov doesn't touch his own skull. No, the bloody Russian doesn't want to muss his perfect hair.

Of course, Thorfinn glowers at his fellow Death Eater. He has to shoot him a look, because so often Thorfinn's words fail him at the best of times. If he ever comes up with a comeback, it's always after the other person has walked away.

Malfoy's haughty sneer when Thorfinn was one of several at the Dark Lord's meeting in Malfoy Manor? Thorfinn wanted to threaten Malfoy with Fiendfyre afterwards.

Dolohov's notable groan when the Dark Lord teamed them up to chase Potter and his friends in Muggle London? Thorfinn wanted to remind Dolohov that he was younger, faster, brighter than any of his older counterparts, Dolohov included.

Pettigrew's tongue clicking against his teeth as he shook his head after Dolohov and Thorfinn received their punishment for being bested by Potter at Tottenham Court Road? Thorfinn would've happily yelled out "Stupefy!" if only to see that rat bastard fly into the fucking wall with the force of Thorfinn's spell.

Even now, with Dolohov's prodding, Thorfinn has nothing to say, as his temper robs him of language.

It hasn't been long since their fuckup, but Dolohov acts as if it's all Thorfinn's fault. He probably believes the bullshit he fed the Dark Lord—"It was all Rowle's fault, milord, he got in the way at the most opportune moment"—and that only feeds Thorfinn's anger more on his last day of recuperation on a musty old bed tucked away in an unused corner of Malfoy Manor.

Thankfully, Dolohov saunters out of this stupidly small room they've been sharing, and Thorfinn spells the other now-empty cot closer so he can stretch his legs out any way he wants. The mattresses are old and creaky, but the padding's not yet worn through, so no springs poke him. He lets out the tiniest sigh of relief.

A new snicker indicates another presence at the door. "Careful you don't let anyone else see you relaxing like that."

His anger ebbs. Thorfinn props himself up on his hands, scooting back until he's somewhat up, half reclined, as Alecto takes a few steps closer. "I'm allowed," he retorts. "I'm injured."

Alecto narrows her eyes at him. On any other woman, that look makes Thorfinn want to slap a bitch for looking down her nose at him. But on Alecto…it makes him want to laugh and listen to whatever she says simultaneously. "You're fine, is what I heard," she says, ignorant of the ideas roaming through his head. "Things are still too early to go barging into St. Mungo's with an idiot like you. You owe Narcissa for her limited knowledge of Healing."

At last, he _does_ laugh. "I can never tell if you like your old Housemate or hate her guts. Jealous, Allie?"

She whips her hand out and smacks him on the back of the head, right where his bump his. Alecto shakes her head at his yelp and subsequent whine. "Never call me that. And some things a brood mare learns by necessity. She has a family. Families get hurt. Therefore, she must know how to Heal."

Considering the wallop he got for the nickname, Thorfinn doesn't dare comment about Alecto's lack of family—Amycus doesn't count, as far as he's concerned. Time to change subjects, then. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you gracing me with your presence?" he asks.

Alecto's brow knits together, a harsh look on her lined, round face. "…sometimes I can't begin to believe the flowery tripe that comes out of your muzzle."

"I'm a poet at heart."

"No, you're a thug. At times, a hired one, at that."

"You wound me."

"No, Potter and his mates did that."

The glee in his tone fades. He glares at her. "That was uncalled for."

Alecto rolls her eyes. She sits on the side of his bed opposite from where he's pulled over Dolohov's and begins to fiddle with her hair, removing the warm blond locks from their locked position and redoing her bun.

The motion's unusual, not like Alecto's typical self. Thorfinn frowns. "Alecto." He pauses. The words "after all my years of pining and maybe-reciprocation" die on his lips. She doesn't like it when he sounds whiny.

He can't say she never visits his room, either; if that were true, then he wouldn't still have some hope after all this time.

"Alecto, why are you here?" Simple is best, Thorfinn decides.

She shows no signs of being affected by his words. She finishes wrapping her hair and pins it into place. Perfect. Narcissa Malfoy ought to be jealous, and Thorfinn wishes Alecto would realize that.

"Alecto," he prompts again.

"I don't know about you, but I've got my next assignment."

He blinks. Was that really so hard to say? "Brilliant. More tasks means more trust in you. What is it?"

Alecto picks something out from underneath her fingernails. "Something quite big."

"Ah. I understand." He musters half a smile for her. "Something small game can't be privy to, yeah?" He doesn't usually self-deprecate—tormenting him has always been the job of others. But he doesn't mind a little every now and then, in Alecto's presence.

"…Hogwarts."

Thorfinn cocks an eyebrow. Isn't this something to celebrate? After the Ministry, Hogwarts has been the Dark Lord's next biggest target, if not tougher. "If you get to storm the castle, I want in."

She scoffs and slaps him—but on the knee this time. No pain incurred. "We're not storming the castle, you idiot. I'm going to teach there. Amycus, as well." After an odd beat and Thorfinn realizing her hand's still on his knee, she adds, "We'll patrol the Hogwarts Express, from the outset. So—we'll go, shortly."

Thorfinn knows he's not the brightest of all, even if he believes himself sharper than many of the older ones here, but he understands Alecto's words.

He knows he's not a part of her "we." Not a single one.

He licks his lips and nods. "It's an upgrade from the usual stuff," he assures her. He attempts to keep his mind on the great, Dark things to be done to that hellhole of a school. "Think about all the new punishments you can put into practice on misbehaving students. Maybe you'll get to torture a teacher or two, even."

That makes Alecto crack a smile…no. A proper sneer.

Whether teenagers or adults, Alecto Carrow's sneer will always make Thorfinn Rowle's heart thud in his brutish chest.

"To think my mind was preoccupied with other things when I could've been planning a new use for the dungeons… You have your moments, Rowle. You have your moments." She stands, though she doesn't tower over him in doing so. She's still squat even with him sitting down, a detail Thorfinn forever favors.

"What _has_ preoccupied your mind, then?" Thorfinn asks. He's desperate to prolong a conversation he knows is drawing to a close.

"What, indeed," Alecto murmurs. She tugs on the spiky bits of his hair in the front—where it's _not_ thinning, Dolohov, thank you very much—and pats Thorfinn's cheek, two quick whaps. She leans forward and kisses him deeply, resting a distracting hand on his thigh. When she breaks away, she rests her head for a moment under his chin, heaving a sigh and moving away before Thorfinn's lips can brush her forehead. After that, Alecto exits the room, unmoved, as if the room had been empty all this time.

But Thorfinn doesn't take her coolness to heart. He can't. Not after _that_.

It takes him several minutes, but he figures out Alecto's cryptic mumbling, reads between the lines of her assignment. She's going to be in Scotland at Hogwarts, while he's going to be on the opposite side of this damned land mass, doing Merlin knows what.

Then an idea strikes him—after she's left, because that is simply how Thorfinn Rowle's life goes—and he doesn't even wince in pain as he swings his legs around and gets to his feet, pulling on his cloak and hoping to convince the Dark Lord of Thorfinn's use, despite his shortcomings. Thorfinn, of course, lacks the makings of a good professor, Dark subject or not…

…but Hogwarts will need bodies to patrol the castle at all times, won't it?

\- ^-^3

**JFC. XD Okay, so. After writing a romance involving Amycus ("bad blood"), I decided to raise the stakes and write one involving Alecto (which is not actually the first time I've paired her with someone—see the femslash fic "Forever a Thought"), and tbh I kinda like this? In a twisted way? This feels somewhat related to "bad blood," even, in that I want to continue some of the hcs that came to light there in another Thorlecto, but ARGHHHH. I just. Yeah. I enjoy writing Death Eaters, *lol*. And I kinda like having Rowle be a little self-introspective, idk. He deffo has some unique views on Alecto. But wow, to hope to chase after her…well, maybe we'll see some of that! ;]**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**

**-mew-tsubaki XD**


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